A few minutes ago.
They used the word they,
across a gaggle.
Is this fair, I thought,
Can this be?
How many they’s
have included me?
Misperceptions strewn,
spattered on a canvas.
Portraits painted
Abstractly,
Unrecognizable,
to the familiar heart.
Grouping does no justice.
To the many souls
Spicy to my tongue,
Who boast round edges
And wild hair.
They are them,
And I will always
be me.
There should never be
A they,
But realistically.
